


affectionate whispers

by shotacatboy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bottom Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, nothing to say rly it's just super soft sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotacatboy/pseuds/shotacatboy
Summary: A blush blooms across Dimitri’s cheeks and he covers his mouth with one hand, obscuring half his face. “Was this premeditated?”“If you are asking me whether or not I have thought about this before,” Byleth answers, “then yes, I have.” He shuffles closer, touch trailing lower now. His hands rest on Dimitri’s stomach and he becomes overwhelmed with the urge to touch his bare skin. “I want nothing more than to see your face contorted with pure pleasure, hear your throaty moans as I impale you on my cock—”“Please, speak no more,” Dimitri interrupts. His voice is muffled by his own skin. “I am beginning to grow flustered.”Or: Dimitri and Byleth spend the night together after their engagement.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 11
Kudos: 304





	affectionate whispers

Summer moisture hangs in the night air. Though humid the remnants of celebration serve as a good distraction from the heat, the smell of baked goods and cooling meat left over from the large feast serving as signs for happier times ahead. Several people, including couples, linger outside in the monastery grounds to take a break from all the festivities—and Archbishop Byleth, one of the aforementioned escapees, bends and sniffs the flowers.

The scent of the yellow roses is rather comforting, he thinks. He plucks one from where it is rooted in the ground and turns it in his hand, curiously examining the thorns.

He’s never been one for parties. Even today, after the coronation and the celebration for the end of the war, he supposes this idiosyncrasy has not changed. What makes matters worse is he’s not even permitted to share a dance with any of his friends!

“Engaging in such rowdy merriment is very unbecoming of the archbishop,” Seteth cut in matter-of-factly, when Sylvain had approached Byleth with an extended hand. His nose was slightly wrinkled in distaste, as most know Sylvain and rowdiness are practically synonymous.

Even still, is it so wrong to have fun? To ease his nerves, have fun— _ true  _ fun—for the first time since the fighting began? Goddess knows he needs it. Anyone paying enough attention would take note of how his hands shake, how his face is pale and his eyes are still wide, as if he cannot quite believe it is truly the end of the war.

Because it is true. He  _ cannot  _ believe it.

He is happy, of course, that the bloodshed has come to an end. But has it really? They say peace has returned to Fódlan, but for how long will that be the case? No one can say for certain whether the fighting will start again. Who is to say there will not be a coup, that former citizens of the Empire and Alliance will not attempt to rebel…

Byleth shakes his head, dismissing those thoughts. Everyone would call him pessimistic for pondering such scenarios, especially during such a happy time.  _ How silly of me,  _ he muses.  _ These are surely the types of thoughts a mercenary would have. _

And how long has it been? Since he was still traveling with his father, slicing the throats of thieves with his sword and watching, blankly, as their lifeless bodies fell to the ground? He can hardly recall that time now, back when he felt no emotions and was always stoic, surprising others with his lack of emotion.

Back when he used to feel nothing as he killed… During those times, it was simply a part of the job. He thought nothing more of it. And yet during the Imperial War he was particularly aware of all those he killed, and felt deep in his bones the shiver that ran through his body as they shrieked in pain and terror and weakly gave their last words.

_ Bury me in this way, make sure this person is safe in my stead… To the very end, they were their own person. They had their own lives and their own relationships, their own reasons for fighting as well as different things to live for. In the end,  _ Byleth thinks,  _ we are all just the same, are we not? _

Byleth closes his eyes. Delicately, he rubs his thumb over the edge of a soft rose petal. Fortunately, he did not lose any of his precious students during the war. Through either sheer luck or, more humbly, his tactics and direction, each of the former Blue Lions class managed to survive without serious injury.

But what if they had not? Byleth is unsure of what he would have done. Would he cry, as he did at his father’s demise? The resounding answer, he feels, is  _ yes,  _ that he would, but now he will never know for sure. He is glad for that.

Even so, he is certain his anguish would have been undeniable, overwhelming and all-consuming. Whether it be through the shed of tears or simply numbing apathy toward the world around him, the loss of any of his students surely would have affected him greatly. Especially in regards to the possible loss of a certain, then-reckless individual…

“Your Grace.”

Byleth withdraws from his thoughts. Ah, speak of the devil.

He turns and, despite his inner narrative, offers a smile. “Your Majesty,” he greets, and the words are unnatural as they roll off his tongue. Dimitri, the crowned King of Faerghus. Byleth imagines it will take a bit before he becomes entirely accustomed to it.

It takes a moment until Byleth realizes Dimitri has not responded. Rather, he fixes the archbishop with a gaze the latter cannot decipher. So, Byleth continues, “Shouldn’t you be inside enjoying the festivities? This celebration is about you officially becoming the crowned king, after all.”

“Yes, well, it can be… a bit overwhelming when everyone is attempting to coddle you at once. I came outside to breathe.” A small smile tugs at his lips. “And I was looking for you.”

“Me?” Byleth echoes. “Please, I—”

“Do you not also enjoy the time we spend alone?”

“Of course I enjoy it,” Byleth replies, sighing, “but having you all to myself on the night of your coronation is a bit selfish of me, is it not?” He tilts his head upward, gazes at the horizon and the setting sun. Then he meets Dimitri’s gaze again. This time, the look in his eye is more light, adoring. “Your Majesty, everyone will be wondering where you are…”

“I,” says Dimitri, “am the selfish one.” His cheeks redden. “Even around so many familiar faces, all those I care about so deeply, my mind keeps drifting to you… and how I wish to be secluded somewhere alone with you.”

Byleth also flushes. “Your Majesty…”

“Call me by my name.”

He hesitates, but eventually nods. “Yes, Dimitri.”

They fall silent. Dimitri’s gaze shifts, lands on the delicate rose still held gently in Byleth’s hand. His mouth opens, then closes, as if he wants to speak but cannot think of what to say. Byleth certainly shares in the sentiment.

“You did wonderfully during the ceremony,” Dimitri eventually says.

“Thank you. As did you.” Byleth dips his head. “Your speech was very inspiring.”

“Ah, no, it was nothing… Would you believe me if I said I was only speaking what first came to mind?”

“Really?”

Dimitri nods. “I was nervous, of course, before the ceremony… but when you placed the crown upon my head, smiled at me so kindly, I no longer felt nervous. The words came naturally, like I’d practiced them a thousand times.” He chuckles. “Quite astounding, really, the effect your presence has on me.”

Byleth mouth hangs open, at a loss. “Must you always shift the focus of every conversation to me? Dimitri, I adore you, but when you say such sweet things… I cannot help but feel giddy.”

This earns him a laugh, and were it not for his good mood Byleth would possibly shoot him down with a glare. “Isn’t that a good thing? I enjoy seeing you happy, and I especially enjoy it when I see you smile… Ah, yes, like the smile you have on your face right now.”

Byleth’s lips twitch. “I am not smiling.”

“You  _ say  _ that, but…”

Dimitri does not finish his statement. He trails off and they are silent again, though now it is less awkward and more reserved. Content. Standing here, being able to study every line on Dimitri’s face, Byleth supposes it isn’t all bad.

“You… are staring awfully hard, Your Grace.”

Byleth shakes his head dismissively. “I am merely thinking.”

“Hm. About?”

“You. And I. And our future together.”

Dimitri lists his head. Once more his attention shifts to the rose Byleth holds. “Yes… Just yesterday evening was when we saw each other in the Goddess Tower. Funny, how we should find ourselves together there again over five years after our first visit.”

“Funny how?”

“Not funny, per se, just a bit surprising. To think such a silly promise I made so many years would eventually come to pass, and alongside our confessions… I have never felt this excited.”

Now Byleth looks down, too, at the ring Dimitri gave him, nestled comfortably on his finger. He’s already grown so used to it he hardly notices it’s there, simply because it is  _ meant  _ to be there. He removed his gloves solely for the sake of wearing it.

A promise of eternal love from Dimitri is never something he had ever expected, but now that it’s happened it is as if this is how everything was meant to play out from the start. As he looks at the ring he gave Dimitri in return, and it fully dawns on him that Dimitri had taken off his gloves for  _ him, _ too, he realizes there is no place he would rather be.

“Don’t get  _ too  _ excited,” Byleth says, however, fixing Dimiri with a stern look. “There is still much to be done. It would be rather careless of us to get married right away, would it not?”

“You are right, of course, but I cannot stop myself from looking forward to that day all the same.” Dimitri laughs in amusement. “The others seem rather accepting of it, as well. Mercedes and Annette have expressed much interest assisting with the preparations.”

“It is to be expected,” Byleth replies, amused. He is fortunate regardless that everyone has taken the news of their engagement well. Some, he would say, were actually  _ unsurprised,  _ if the knowing smirk from Sylvain and unimpressed scoff Felix gave are any indicators.

_ Yet, that day, the day we get married… How soon will it be? _

Once they both officially assume their new roles as archbishop and king they will surely become quite busy, and the time it takes to travel between Fhirdiad and Garreg Mach is not short—visits, typically, will have to be sparing. Byleth guesses they will be writing each other letters when they are apart, but even then it is not the same as being together in person.

Dimitri seems to read his thoughts. “It isn’t going to be the same without you by my side, guiding me, teaching me… I worry how well I’ll serve as a king if your presence isn’t nearby.”

“You will make an excellent king, there is no doubt about that,” Byleth assures him, “but I agree. We were apart for five years. It pains me to think I will be apart from you again, albeit on wildly different circumstances. That aside, I also worry whether I will make a good archbishop.”

“The same goes for you, that there is no doubt.” Dimitri sounds certain. “The people believe in you.  _ I  _ believe in you. You are strong, and have guided us this far. You’re going to do wonderfully.”

“Look at us, telling each other not to fret while we doubt ourselves…”

Dimitri doesn’t respond with words. He offers his hand, and Byleth catches sight of the ring he gave him as it shines against the glow of the moonlight. Byleth glances up at him and Dimitri meets his gaze head-on, remaining patient.

After several seconds and releasing a breath to calm himself Byleth eventually takes his hand, dismissing his own worried thoughts, and manages a smile when Dimitri laces their fingers together.

“Shall we go somewhere private?” Dimitri asks. He speaks these slowly, whispering, leaving room for a hidden meaning in those words that has a shudder running down Byleth’s spine. It takes a lot in him to not accept the offer immediately.

“No, we cannot,” he says, flushing, and doesn’t miss how Dimitri’s face falls at his response. “It would be rude of me to sweep you away from the festivities like this… Besides, the others will begin worrying. They’ll start looking for us.”

“Your Grace,” Dimitri begins, quite serious, “we are engaged. Publicly. If the others notice us missing it would not take long to figure out what we’re up to.”

Byleth, despite himself, reddens further. “Right. How, ah, foolish of me to make such a large oversight. Shall we be off, then?”

Dimitri’s fingers tighten around his own. He grins, confident now that he’s gotten what he wanted. “Let’s.”

***

They decide unanimously on heading to Dimitri’s old dorm room, as it is more secluded than Byleth’s own personal quarters and will likely allow them more quiet while partygoers drunkenly wander the grounds.

It doesn’t take them long getting there, and all it takes are formal nods toward the people they pass—hopefully serving as enough to placate the fact they’re an engaged couple hellbent on doing unsavory things to each other.

Byleth’s blood is pumping when he makes to push open the door. He’s barely stepped inside the room when the door promptly slams shut behind him and Dimitri has him promptly pushed up against it, staring into him with a look that reveals unrestrained hunger.

_ Ah,  _ Byleth thinks,  _ he has been waiting for this. _

Admittedly, so has Byleth. Tonight is to be the first time they lay together and Byleth can sense the pure, unadulterated  _ want  _ thrumming beneath his skin, his knees weak from the way Dimitri looks at him— _ into  _ him—alone. He cannot say for sure how long he has been wanting this, how long he has felt such deep, aching adoration for the king, but he knows it’s been quite a while.

When Dimitri bends to kiss him, he reciprocates. Their first was only a day ago but the way their lips meet now is natural, easy, as if they’ve been doing this for years. Dimitri’s hands fall on Byleth’s waist and Byleth cups his face in turn, tilting his head to deepen the contact.

The kisses are soft, at first. Then Dimitri’s tongue slips past Byleth’s lips and he moans deep in his throat, fingers tugging at silky blond strands. He feels Dimitri smile against him before he’s pulling away, a hand drifting along his ribcage, teasing.

“I must apologize in advance,” Dimitri says. “I have never bedded anyone. If something goes wrong, or I should hurt you somehow… Please let me know, and I will stop in an instant.”

Byleth smiles cheekily, traces his thumb over Dimitri’s bottom lip. “You say that like I wouldn’t be able to stop you myself,” he jokes.

This elicits a hearty laugh. Amusement glints in Dimitri’s eye. “I realize as much. It is only that I don’t wish for you to put up with something unbearable for my sake.”

Byleth kisses his cheek. “Dimitri, why do you always doubt yourself so? You are going to do fantastically.” In a swift, bold move, he suddenly thrusts his hips forward, pressing his clothed erection against Dimitri’s. Dimitri gasps. “Can’t you see, love? I’m already excited.”

Dimitri releases a shaky breath. “I-I see… In that case, we should take this to the bed.”

“Yes.” Yet Byleth reaches for Dimitri’s wrist, gently stopping him. “Oh, and one more thing.” Dimitri hums in acknowledgement, urging him to continue, and he says, “Call me by my name. Please. It is only fair, if you’re having me call you by yours.”

“Ah. Of course.”

They climb into Dimitri’s bed together, with Dimitri settling at Byleth’s side and wrapping strong arms around his waist. He pulls him into an embrace from behind and, sighing, tugs him to his chest. They remain still for several moments, basking in the comfortable silence.

Eventually Dimitri grabs his wrist and presses a kiss against a vein, where a pulse should reside but doesn’t. “Are you ready… Byleth?”

Byleth smiles at the use of his name. He turns in Dimitri’s hold so they’re facing, and kisses him softly. It lasts merely a few seconds. “I have been ready for quite some time, my love,” he replies. “But if I may, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?”

“I would like to take control,” Byleth whispers, running his hands down Dimitri’s arms, feeling his muscles. “It is okay for you to refuse, of course. However, it would be...  _ interesting  _ to see you come undone.”

A blush blooms across Dimitri’s cheeks and he covers his mouth with one hand, obscuring half his face. “Was this premeditated?”

“If you are asking me whether or not I have thought about this before,” Byleth answers, “then yes, I have.” He shuffles closer, touch trailing lower now. His hands rest on Dimitri’s stomach and he becomes overwhelmed with the urge to touch his bare skin. “I want nothing more than to see your face contorted with pure pleasure, hear your throaty moans as I impale you on my cock—”

“Please, speak no more,” Dimitri interrupts. His voice is muffled by his own skin. “I am beginning to grow flustered.”

Byleth glances down at his erection, which twitches in his pants.  _ Apparently so,  _ he muses, but elects against voicing aloud. Rather he allows himself a moment of vulgarity and grasps Dimitri, palming him through the fabric before drawing away. A tear threatens to fall from Dimitri’s eye and he leans in and licks it away.

“What say you?” Byleth inquires. “Have you ever thought about me, too?”

“Byleth, do not ask such foolish questions. You know I have.” Dimitri moans again as Byleth nibbles his earlobe.

“Interesting. In what ways?” Byleth moves until he’s upright, both legs planted on either side of Dimitri, and slowly begins about removing his beloved’s armor. “I want to hear every detail.”

“It is how you suggested yourself, just a moment ago.” Dimitri closes his eye and lets Byleth continue his work. “I have imagined you fucking me… treating me as if I were nothing more than a mere tool at your disposal. Using me however you see fit.”

Byleth hums. “I would never use you like that.”

“I know, but the thought is arousing.”

“It is,” Byleth agrees, quite confidently.

It takes a while for Dimitri to realize Byleth is waiting for him to go on. “When I was a student, too, I usually entertained the thought of you bending me over your desk, having your way with me. I often touched myself to such fantasies.”

“Oh? In this very room?”

Dimitri’s nose wrinkles in distaste. “Where else would I?”

Byleth shudders. A mental image appears in his mind of Dimitri, alone, sitting on this bed, one hand wrapping around his aching cock as he moans his professor’s name into the empty air.

“What about you?”

“Hm?” Byleth asks, distracted. He peels away Dimitri’s armor and lets it clatter to the floor. “What about me?”

“Have you ever done the same?”

The honest answer is yes, that he has. He is only a man, after all, and a battle-worn one at that. 

Pent-up frustration after a long battle during wartimes usually found him alone in his quarters, releasing unsatisfyingly into his hand as he pictured the then-fallen prince himself—because, though Dimitri’s mental state at that time was questionable, there still remains no use denying he has grown into a  _ large  _ and  _ attractive  _ individual in the five years since their reunion.

Nonetheless, Byleth has no intention of admitting such out loud. Whether it be from the shame at his actions or the refusal to give Dimitri the benefit of the doubt—at least, not  _ right away, _ while he has gained some control over him—he settles on taking a different approach.

“Why,” Byleth asks, “should it matter if I have? After all, I currently have what I want, lying here in front of me... Now that I have it—have  _ you,  _ Dimitri—there is no longer anything else which can measure up. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” Dimitri says, swallowing heavily, “yes, I believe I do.”

“Good.” Dimitri lifts his arms and allows Byleth to pull his shirt over his head. With his broad, scarred chest finally left bare and exposed, Byleth wastes no time in tracing his fingers along each line of muscle. Dimitri shivers beneath him.

“Byleth…”

Byleth peppers gentle kisses along Dimitri’s jawline. “Yes?”

“Since we are together,” he says, “and you know I have been waiting for it, waiting for  _ you…  _ I have no intention of letting you go. Ever, if I can help it. I want to be your husband for the rest of our days.”

And Byleth cannot stop the instant thrill he experiences at the tone in Dimitri’s voice, deep and certain and downright  _ possessive. _

The best part is Byleth isn’t surprised in seeing this side of Dimitri, either, as he recalls old school days when Dimitri would stare hard at him as he gave attention to other students and accept every offer Byleth made for tea, often requesting a follow-up meeting whenever they were finished with their cups.

_ How interesting.  _ A grin curls at Byleth’s lips.  _ I figured he might’ve had a small crush on me, sure, but to this extent… He wanted my gaze fixated on  _ him _ alone. _

_ In that case, I should make all those years he spent yearing worth it. It is the most reasonable course of action. _

Thus he starts tugging at Dimitri’s belt rather impatiently, letting it join his armor on the floor. As he does he trails sloppy kisses on his neck and shoulder, gently sinks straight teeth into his collarbone. Pride rushes through him when Dimitri hisses out in pleasure.

“Let me know if ever you are experiencing discomfort, dearest,” Byleth tells him.

Dimitri huffs. “If ever I felt discomfort I would have no issue restraining you in an instant.”

Byleth recognizes the humor in his voice, the same tone he’d used when he told Dimitri much the same not minutes ago. “You sound confident. I like it.”

Despite his words, Dimitri’s touch as he tangles his fingers in Byleth’s hair to urge him on further is gentle, loving. Byleth rewards him via more kisses and small nips on his chest, leaving marks that are sure to bruise later, leaving his claim on the king—and each sweet noise that falls from Dimitri’s lips eggs him on, makes his cock ache with the need for release.

His fingers dip into the waistband of Dimitri’s pants. “You are mine,” he says, “as I am yours.” Unflinchingly, he tugs them down. “I promise I will continue supporting you forevermore, both as your instructor and spouse. I promise will give you all the attention you so desire, and treat you as you deserve to be treated. With love and care.”

He takes Dimitri’s cock in hand and gives it a slow, experimental stroke. Dimitri bucks into his hand and moans low. “Are you holding up alright?”

“Yes,” Dimitri gasps. The way his hips twitch indicate his need for more touch, more attention, face completely red and eye screwed shut in the most beautiful way. Byleth could drink in this expression forever. “Oh, Byleth…  _ Please.” _

Byleth raises a brow.  _ I can work with this,  _ he thinks.

“Please?” he echoes, feigning ignorance. He rubs his thumb over the head of Dimitri’s cock. “Please what? Is there something you need, dear?”

Dimitri’s breath is hoarse, shaky. He opens his eye and gazes at the ceiling. “You… you…”

“I?”

“You,” Dimitri pants, “are still fully dressed.”

“And?” inquires Byleth, acquiring a steady rhythm as he strokes Dimitri’s cock. It’s teasing on purpose, and he’s well aware it won’t nearly be enough to make Dimitri cum.

_ Definitely not,  _ he muses. He hums to himself, watches as the king gradually comes undone. Never would he have imagined such a tantalizing sight on his own. Dimitri, in every sense, never fails to surprise him.  _ If he desires release, well… I suppose he’s going to have to ask for it. _

“And,” Dimitri says, snapping him from his scandalous thoughts, “I am bare. I-it would make more sense for…  _ ah…  _ It would make more sense for  _ you  _ to undress as well, would it not?”

Byleth pretends to consider. A sudden hard stroke upward has Dimitri crying out his name into the dark room.

“Would you believe me if I said my body isn’t as desirable as yours? Who’s to say the sight of my body won’t ruin the mood?”

Dimitri shakes his head. “It simply isn’t p-possible,” he replies. He tries thrusting into Byleth’s touch again, but the free hand that lands on his side holds him in place. “You are perfect, I could never—”

“You are always too kind to me, Dimitri.”

He shakes his head a second time. “No, it is you…  _ You  _ are the one who has always been too kind. E-even when I was… consumed by my demons… you remained…”

For a second, Byleth’s confidence falters. “Dimitri…”

_ “Please,  _ Byleth.” Dimitri looks at him then, desperate. “I want to see you, too.”

Inexorably, something within Byleth snaps. He quickly works at undoing the clasps on his armor, removing it from his arms and shoulders before he’s shrugging his coat off and discarding each carelessly. The moment his shirt is lifted over his head and tossed aside, as well, he becomes self-conscious at how Dimitri ogles him.

He cannot suppress the choked sound he makes when Dimitri roams a curious hand over his pectorals. Dimitri is silent for what feels like what may be an eternity, and when he speaks again it’s with a single word, barely above a whisper.

“Beautiful.”

“I love you,” Byleth says, and dives in for a heated kiss. He murmurs gently between kisses, soft praises and proclamations of affection. “Dimitri, I love you so much.”

Dimitri’s tongue dives into his mouth, greedy,  _ needing, _ and despite being the initiator Byleth struggles to meet his hurried pace. He draws back suddenly when Dimitri tugs impatiently at his slacks. “Ah… excited, are we?”

“I want to see it,” Dimitri says. It doesn’t take much to understand what he’s referring to. “I have been dreaming about it.”

Byleth doesn’t respond. He only listens to the light rustling of clothes as Dimitri tugs his slacks and underwear down to his knees, letting Byleth sit back as he instinctively removes them the rest of the way. Then, completely undressed, he crawls atop Dimitri and grabs his knees to spread his legs.

“Dearest,” Byleth whispers, leaning down. He presses soft lips against Dimitri’s eyelids, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, enjoying the happy sighs they elicit in response. “Do you have…?”

“Oil,” Dimitri tells him. He turns his face away, suddenly appearing uncertain. “It is in the dresser.”

Byleth thinks he might need to fix that, but for the moment decides on lifting himself up and reaching inside the dresser, digging around until his fingers curl around a small glass bottle. He pulls it out and examines it, fascinated by the thick liquid inside.

“You,” he mutters, “are rather salacious for a noble, aren’t you?”

“Forgive me,” implores Dimitri. His face becomes a deep red, his throat constricting as he swallows. “It is unbecoming of me, I am aware, but I—”

“I am the only one who gets to see this side of you.”

Dimitri isn’t given the opportunity to respond. A well-oiled finger slides inside him and he cries out at the abrupt intrusion, his back arching off the bed. Byleth strokes his hair with his free hand and shushes him gently. “Careful, Dimitri. Someone may hear us.”

_ “Byleth.” _

“Use your words, love. Are you hurt? Should we stop?”

“No, I-I am… simply surprised, is all.” His reply comes out between harsh exhales.

“Do you need a moment?”

“I will let you know. Please. Continue.”

Byleth obeys, thrusting his finger, taking it slow as so Dimitri can adjust. Then eventually he adds a second and thrusts them both in earnest. It’s cautious, calculated, until he feels a bit experimental, pushing his fingers inside hard and deep. Dimitri whines and immediately bites the meat of his own thumb to muffle the sound.

_ Oh,  _ Byleth thinks. Disappointed. He was the one who suggested Dimitri remain silent, and yet, presently, what he yearns for more than anything is to hear his pleasured cries once more.

He shuts his eyes. Not tonight. When they are married, maybe, and he gets to have the chance to have Dimitri alone— _ truly  _ alone, somewhere far, far away from everyone else, where they can be themselves without worry of interruption.

He enters a third finger. Dimitri reaches for him, and he bends to meet him halfway. Their mouths mold together effortlessly and Byleth works him open further, swallowing every delicious cry Dimitri makes.

Dimitri breaks the kiss. “Wait. You… Do you have experience?”

His voice is shaky from the attention he’s receiving but the way his eye suddenly grows dark is undeniably dangerous. Byleth licks his lips, ponders how he should answer.

“Would it make you jealous if I said I do?”

“You—” Dimitri starts, but moans brokenly when Byleth’s fingers curl inside him. His mouth hangs open and he takes some time to recollect his composure. “P-please, Byleth… Do not tease me like that.”

“Regardless,” Byleth says, “it ceases to matter. As I have already told you,  _ you  _ are the most important person in my world. I would never leave you for another. I swear it.”

He withdraws. Dimitri lifts his head, puzzled by the sudden loss, and yelps when Byleth suddenly moves him so that he’s on his hands and knees. “Byleth…”

“I will never tire of hearing my name fall from your lips.” Byleth pours some oil in his palm and gives his cock a few strokes, his chest heaving. The tip is red and leaking without much attention, evidence of his uncontainable desire. Gooseflesh rises on his skin at the thought of what’s to come next.

“I am ready,” Dimitri tells him unprompted. “Byleth, I need you.”

“I know… I know, my love,” Byleth mantras. His mind is nearly completely gone, staring at Dimitri’s muscular back through half-lidded eyes as he aligns his cock at his entrance. He pushes just the tip in and moans deep in his throat. He leans over Dimitri, bites into his shoulder. “Are you alright? Talk to me.”

“More,” Dimitri says, shakily, pushing back against his cock. Byleth’s entire body shakes as it’s forced in further. “Do not stop, I am begging you.”

Byleth’s arms come around Dimitri’s waist. He presses against his back, light hairs tickling the nape of his neck. “I have no intention of stopping,” he promises, “not ever. Not as long as we are together, as long as you’ll have me.” He snaps his hips forward, a shallow thrust. “I love you. Wholly.”

“I love you, as well.” Dimitri releases a low moan, and Byleth severely wishes he could see the expression on his face. “Byleth, I have loved you for so long.” The way his voice cracks makes it sound like he’s crying. “I’ve… I never expected—”

Byleth silences him with another hard thrust, internally glad Dimitri is unable to see the blush from earlier has returned to warming his face. He is unsure what to say, has no idea which words would best express his emotions. Had he a heartbeat he is certain it would be racing.

“It is okay. I understand. I am here for you, eternally.” He sighs. “Remember to cover your mouth, Dimitri.” He smiles as Dimitri immediately lifts a hand and obeys.  _ Is it bad that I could get used to this? _

Be that as it may, he can sense Dimitri’s impatience gradually building. He’ll need to proceed if he has any hope at retaining dominance.

An open-mouthed kiss placed upon Dimitri’s shoulder and he begins moving, establishing a moderate, steady rhythm, intending to ease Dimitri into being utterly destroyed. He thinks that once Dimitri adjusts he’ll turn him over again, get a good look at his face as he—

He gnaws on his lower lip, presses his forehead against Dimitri’s back.  _ Not now. If I keep imagining such things I’ll cum too soon. _

And he can’t have that, can he? He prefers watching Dimitri come undone first.

Needless to say, Dimitri’s hushed murmurings of his name alongside stifled moans do not help Byleth in keeping his composure, and without much thought he picks up the pace and tugs at Dimitri’s nipples.

“Dimitri, tight—” Byleth cuts himself short, trailing kisses down Dimitri’s spine. “You’re  _ perfect.  _ My favorite. I love you.”

“Byleth,” Dimitri pants, “I want… I want…”

“Yes?” Byleth asks against his ear. He pushes into Dimitri with reckless abandon, going faster in an attempt to hear more of those perfect noises. In his lustful haze he finds that he longer cares if anyone overhears them. “What do you want, Dimitri?”

“I want to see your face.”

Byleth cannot even find the will to argue. He pulls out and flips him over onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head and steals a greedy, passionate kiss, nudging his tongue against Dimitri’s and listening to the muffled groans reverberating in his throat.

When Byleth pulls away a string of saliva momentarily connects them, then breaks. He pushes in again and is surprised to find how easy it is, how well Dimitri takes him and sucks him in. So warm and tight… Byleth is not sure he will be capable of lasting much longer.

“Are you satisfied?” Byleth asks. Dimitri nods instantaneously and he smiles, pleased. “Good boy,” he adds, and reaches down to give Dimitri’s cock a loose stroke. “If you need anything, please do not be afraid to ask. I encourage it, actually.”

“Yes,” Dimitri says, his eye fluttering shut, “of course.”

It is all the encouragement Byleth needs. He doesn’t waste a single second in picking up the steady pace he’d started with earlier, though it isn’t long until his sense of self leaves him again and he’s thrusting wildly, moaning into Dimitri’s mouth. He strokes Dimitri in junction with his thrusts, and watches as Dimitri throws his head back onto the pillow, begging,  _ pleading. _

_ He won’t last long at this rate, _ Byleth muses, satisfied.

Sure enough, he is correct. Dimitri no longer makes any effect to silence himself, practically shouting, definitely loud enough for any person in the vicinity to hear him. Byleth couldn’t care less.

“Byleth!” he cries out. “I am… I am going—”

“I am here,” Byleth assures him. He strokes him faster, wanting to get him off. “It is okay. Cum for me, dear.”

On command, Dimitri does. His spill lands over his own stomach as well as Byleth’s hand, fast and intense. Yet Byleth does not cease his motions, fucking him through it, chasing his release. It does not process that he has cum inside Dimitri until he pulls out, watching the leak of his seed from Dimitri’s hole.

“Oh.”

Dimitri, however, does not appear offended. His hands come around Byleth’s neck and tug him down for a kiss. It lasts mere seconds. “Thank you,” he says, and kisses him once more. “Thank you, my beloved. To no surprise, you are fantastic at everything you do.”

“Do not praise me,” Byleth warns. “I may become excited again.”

“Oh, no,” Dimitri laments, sarcastic, “how terrible that would be.”

“I won’t be spoiling you, I’m afraid. A long day awaits us tomorrow,” Byleth says. He lies down at Dimitri’s side, curling against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat is welcome and comforting. “Soon you will return to Fhirdiad.”

“I wish I could take you along.”

Byleth sighs. “I do, too,” he admits, “but it simply isn’t possible. But I swear I will write you as often as I can. Ah, how romantic would it be if I sent you love poems?”

“You are too much,” Dimitri says, laughing. Byleth loves the sound. “I am not good with words, I’m afraid. Any poetry I write would be a disaster.”

“Yes, that may be true, but I do not mind. As long as it comes from the heart, it will be perfect.” Byleth snuggles closer. He can feel his consciousness slipping away like sand through his fingertips, having difficulty keeping his eyes open. Dimitri senses it, too, as he winds an arm around Byleth’s waist. “When we get married I hope we will do this every night.”

“Have sex?” Dimitri questions, amused.

Byleth glares up at him. “No, I meant sleeping together. You have lots of warmth and it is my every intent to sap it all from you.” Then he grins. “And the sex is a nice benefit, I suppose.”

Dimitri hums but does not respond. Though the silence is telling enough, and soon Byleth falls asleep to the mental image of what their wedding will be like, and the eternal vows he plans on declaring to Dimitri.

The future, for the first time in five years, looks bright.

**Author's Note:**

> heyy, if u read this i hope u enjoyed. this is the first fic ive written for this fandom (as i am new around these parts), and i hope to make more one day!! if u enjoyed pls make sure to lmk what u thought, comments are my lifeline
> 
> also if u want to see more from me in the future or just wanna talk to me abt whatever, u can find my twitter [here!](https://twitter.com/catboybelphie) im planning on posting threads/other writings on there. one day. eventually. maybe.
> 
> thank you!


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